Monday, February 27, 2006

Somewhere buried in Proverbs there must be a warning against butting in to other people’s business. Proverbs is my favorite book of the bible. I love it. It’s so practical. I use to do a Proverb a day, since there are 31 proverbs and 30-31 days in a month, it works out perfectly. But then I noticed I never spent time in any of the other books. Now I check in to Proverbs randomly, I check the date on my watch and flip to the corresponding chapter in Proverbs.

Unfortunately the wisdom I read in Proverbs doesn’t always “stick”. I need some super adhesive or something to stick those words on my heart, or maybe some kind of a deadbolt to lock them in my brain. I’m a mess.

Proverbs 6:16-19 tells me:There are six things the LORD hates, seven that are detestable to him: haughty eyes, a lying tongue, hands that shed innocent blood, a heart that devises wicked schemes, feet that are quick to rush into evil, a false witness who pours out lies and a man who stirs up dissension among brothers.

I am guilty of all of the above. (yes, innocent blood = Jesus)

I think I’m going to lock up Proverbs 9:7 –8 in my mind until it sticks. ..You’ll have to dust off your Bible and look that one up.

Saturday, February 25, 2006

Kristy, Danielle, Annie and I went dress shopping to find our chocolate bridesmaid's dresses today. We found THE dress in the first store we went to. I really think this dress will look great with my orange life preserver that I plan to wear. Danielle reluctantly models the dress here for us. Think Chocolate…

Then we were off to the Moshulu, so that Kristy could show us where the ceremony and reception would be held.

Our final stop was Chickie and Petes for a few cocktails and some much deserved lunch! Then Kristy almost got into a fight with a Philly police officer, just before she cut off an entire row of traffic - which was ALMOST as skillfully executed as her parallel parking job at the Moshulu.

Friday, February 24, 2006

I’m so tired of hearing people gripe about black history month being February, the shortest month of the year. I’m sorry, I’m venting. In the midst of a wonderful month-long black history celebration that our diversity counsel put on this month, I overheard my (well-educated) co-worker whine about “why is it that black history month is the shortest month of the year?”. I told him that he sounded like a played out black comedian. That probably wasn’t the best response on my part, but I am honestly so frustrated by this. A black man created black history month, not a white man, so stop whining about the injustice of it all. Just stop! If it’s so unjust, start a movement to push it back a month so you can celebrate for 3 extra days, or celebrate it until March 3rd!

According to our diversity counsel, much of the credit for black history month can go to Harvard Scholar Dr. Carter G. Woodson, “the Father of Black History Month”, who was determined to bring Black History into the mainstream public arena. In 1926 Woodson organized the first annual Negro History Week, which took place during the second week of February. Woodson chose this date to coincide with the birthdays of Frederick Douglass and Abraham Lincoln - two men who had greatly impacted the black population. Over time, Negro History Week evolved into the Black History Month that we know today - a four-week-long celebration of African American History.

Celebrate Mr. Woodson! Celebrate the incredible history and journey of African Americans! Celebrate the amazing Africans Americans in your life and family and their ancestors!

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

My best friend & sister-in-law,Wendy, is my blogger guest today (I editorialized with a picture of me during my big hair days & a picture of Wendy & I post Aqua-net):

For reasons I cannot remember (insert the old age jokes here), I pulled out my high school yearbook the other day. I know it had something to do with showing my neighbor, Deb, my “big hair.” After blowing the dust off the cover, I quickly found what I was looking for – me and my large mane. There I am, immortalized forever with what appears to be an atomic bomb of hair on top of my head, the sides blown out like wings and the rest permed. Ugh. However, my embarrassment quickly faded as we perused the endless pages of large hair and ….. mullets?! I couldn’t believe how many mullets were in my class! And why do I not remember them?? Even some of the “cooler” guys had them (although the “party in the back” was more like a “get together”). We even picked out a few girls sporting them (I believe they are called “fem-mullets”). I came to realize that my class could be titled, “The Year of Big Hair.”

Later in the day I found myself thinking about high school. Like the first line of A Tale of Two Cities, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times. I have to think I’m not alone by saying that. In those days, I defined myself through my hair, my clothes, my friends and who I was dating. I wish I could go back with the knowledge I have now. The knowledge that friends and boyfriends come and go (and you will live after they go), but education and self-esteem are paramount. I think this is a lesson we all learn in life – after the big hair is long gone.

Monday, February 20, 2006

While Avery was eating his taco this evening I overheard him exclaim "This dead cow is delicious!".

In a related story...An interesting fact that I learned at school this week: McDonalds has a management training program called Hamburger University. Isn't that THE BEST!?! Can you imagine hanging a diploma on your office wall from Hamburger University!?! I love it! I think I may go once I finish up at Troy.

Can you guess what's missing from this photo?

Did you know that Snuffleupagus has a first name? You'll never guess what it is. Here's a hint: it starts with an "A". He also has a sister named Alice. Who knew?

Wendy informed me today that my 2 1/2 year old nephew Will had gotten into some pink paint that she had been using to paint the girl's bedroom with. Will apparently decided to paint their black lab, Jack. When his parents found out what had happened, his only words were, "Jack looks pretty".

Lastly, how do you play "TV tag"? Kristy and I have been trying to figure out the rules of this game for a couple of days now. I say that when someone was about to tag you, all you had to do was shout out the name of a TV show and you would be safe. That seems too easy though... Then I suggested that you couldn't name a show that had already been named, but Kristy argued that that was too complex, it's not like there was a referee keeping track of which shows had already been called. Does anyone remember the rules of this game?

Saturday, February 18, 2006

Anyone who knows Amelle knows that she likes to dress up in high heels, sparkly gowns, feathery boas, and costume jewelry. With that in mind, I planned a dress up birthday brunch for her and her 5 girlfriends from school. All the girls showed up in their dress up attire, and Amelle looked like a Bohemian, complete with bare feet. Go figure! Of course, this was after I talked her into taking her sneakers off. By the way, this girl can run in high heels, she NEVER wears sneakers. We’ve got a little rebel on our hands. She takes pleasure in raging against “the machine”. She’s a rebel with out a cause, she’s sticking it to “the man”.

Sunday, February 12, 2006

I’m in the office typing a paper that’s due today (that I started today). Jermaine and the kids are at the dining room table. Amelle is drawing a picture, Jermaine and Avery are playing chess, and Amaya is sitting quietly on Jermaine’s lap. I just overheard this conversation:

Friday, February 10, 2006

At this time of year Amelle’s preschool is decorated with countless construction paper hearts, glittery doilies, and little cardboard cupids. Yesterday I noticed two large pieces of paper outside of Amelle’s classroom with hearts all over them. When I looked closer, I noticed sentences with each child’s name next to a sentence. There was a pink paper with the word “Mommy” on top and a blue paper with “Daddy” listed as the title. As a scrolled down to Amelle’s name I read “My mom helps me clean the floor and cook dinner”. The blue sheet indicated “My daddy works on the back of the house”. Then I went through and read other children’s sentences; “My mom watches movies with me”, “My dad teaches me how to ride a bike”, “My mom tickles me”, “My dad plays football with me” and I was saddened by our daughter’s perception of us. We were merely laborers in her little mind. I have a call in with the teacher to find out exactly what the question was. Hopefully it was “tell me how industrious your parents are”, and not “tell me how you know your parents love you”.

The 10,000 maniacs song “These are the days to remember” crept into my mind. With parents so preoccupied with the business of life, I wonder what our children will remember about us when they look back at their childhood?

I keep telling myself that life will slow down once I finish school and once we finish the household projects that we have going on, but will it? I’m a little heartbroken this morning as I ponder this. It's so important to me to get a 4.0 in school and to get the highest performance rating at work, but I may be a “below expectations” at my most important job, “mom”.

Sunday, February 05, 2006

Amelle had Jermaine and I laughing all day yesterday. She was just being herself - a regular 4 (going on 5) year old. I wanted to capture some of the things she said, so I typed them into a Word document this morning for safe keeping (my memory is just not reliable). I thought I'd share a few with you..